


The Winner Takes It All

by jormaperalta



Category: The Pinkertons (TV)
Genre: Gen, Kate is super protective of Will and it fuels me, Mentions of Violence, Spoilers up to 1x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 19:47:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8813953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jormaperalta/pseuds/jormaperalta
Summary: “You’re afraid they’ll try?” Will’s tone is light but she doesn’t see what’s funny about this. “Kate, I’m counting on it.”Kate stares after her cocksure partner as he approaches Henry, Zeke’s voice shouting, “May the best man win!”+What goes through Kate's mind when Will fights Henry





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dontfloatthe100](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dontfloatthe100/gifts).



> This is my first Pinkertons fic so I hope you enjoy! I'd love any feedback. Sorry for the grammar mistakes, this is un-beta'd but I'll look it over again tomorrow, I was just super excited to read @dontfloatthe100's take on this scene.

Kate Warne rushes up to the Dubois with Sheriff Logan lingering behind. “Come along then,” She urges him.

He gives her a look she’s well familiar with at this point. “Will’s a grown man, he can take care of himself.”

“Did you hear yourself say that?” She responds in turn, giving him a look right back.

Logan pauses in thought and Kate doesn’t have time for this. “Aw hell, you’re right.” They move faster, but still trying to look not as eye-catching.

“-Will attempt to avenge the death of his comrade, Carey O’Brian, may he rest in peace,” Kate hears Slayton’s smarmy voice as she pushes through the doors.

A dull sound moves through the crowd, a couple people voicing their cheers but she pays them no mind. “By fighting the Butcher of Kansas City. The devilish, the murderous, Will ‘The Kansas City Killer!’”

Kate finds her place next to Will, standing against Annalee’s bar while staring down Henry and Slayton. His eyes are dark and his stature is closed off and intimidating. Well, it _would_ be intimidating if she hasn’t seen him be a careless ass over and over again.

The crowd jeers him but he’s not paying attention and neither is she. “What are you doing?” She asks, keeping her voice low.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Will says in his contrary way. She’s not in the mood.

“Will, you have to listen to me,” Kate asks of him, but he’s staring straight ahead. She talks anyway. “I took a closer look at Grove’s journal.” He’s nodding, she keeps talking, “It turns out that Henry _was_ betting on his own fights.” 

That gets his attention, Will's eyes immediately on hers. She continues, even though it hurts, “Even against himself at times.”

Will turns away from her again, and Slayton’s voice riles up again with him shouting, “And now, here’s our champion, Henry Fox!”

She looks at her childhood friend, nodding at the cheers of the crowd and she’s filled with something so close to regret. How could she not have seen any of this? Isn't she supposed to be a detective?

Slayton grabs onto Henry, their voices talking low or maybe it’s just the din of the crowd but then Will’s talking again which grabs her attention.

“So Henry’s the lead suspect in this investigation?”  

She looks over at Zeke Slayton and the way he just seems to be a bit too much at all times. “I’m not willing to rule Zeke out,” She says, because it’s the God’s-honest truth, but with a slightly heavy heart she says, “But there’s no doubt in my mind that Henry is involved somehow.”

“I’m sorry, Kate,” Will says, and there’s nothing humorous or light about it. He means it.

Which just hurts a little bit more.

Kate looks away. Not at Will, not at Henry, just looks at the floor. “I know how much he means to you,” He continues.

“None of that matters now,” She says, and she means it. What matters is what’s next: this fight. She looks back at him, and of course he’s back to looking ‘terrifying’ and away from her. “What’s your plan?”

“I’m going to start by knocking his teeth out,” His voice is low and she can’t help the slight shiver down her spine. He means it.

“With the blood of Carey O’Brian barely dry on his hands,” Zeke keeps shouting. A part of her wants to object to the slander and object to fight but Will is already taking off his shirt. She can still see bruising from his fight with O’Brian. He can't do this.

“Will, please don’t do this,” Kate asks him, nearly begs. “I’m afraid they’re going to try and kill you like they did Burt.” As serious as everything is, she can’t stop herself from looking his body over, the scientist in her intrigued by his physique. She almost tries to calculate whether or not he’s more muscular than Henry when he turns to her.

“You’re afraid they’ll try?” Will’s tone is light but she doesn’t see what’s funny about this. “Kate, I’m counting on it.”

Kate stares after her cocksure partner as he approaches Henry, Zeke’s voice shouting, “May the best man win!” 

And she’s nervous to her bones, because she knows from experience that the best man doesn’t always win.

+

Kate’s been mulling over Will’s words as Will gets punched and punches back against Henry. She will never understand this pointless sport.

There’s a split second where she doesn’t know who to root for, and almost decides to not root for anyone, but then as she watches Will dance around Henry that even if Henry wasn’t almost certainly involved in Burt’s death, that’d she want her partner to win no matter what.

Kate looks over at Annalee, who looks even more nervous than she feels. Keeping stock, she looks to find the Sheriff, watching idly by the outside ring of spectators. While she wants him to break up the fight before Will gets hurt, she knows he can’t do anything. there’s nothing illegal about this. Yet anyway.

Wait. Yet.

That’s what Will was talking about, he’s made himself a target to prove Slayton as a murderer. Ugh, that _idiot._

“You talk too much!” Henry shouts at Will, and Kate can’t help but agree, even in the circumstances. She can see they’re talking at each other, but she can’t ever over the cacophony of the crowd at this distance away.

“Does Will know what he’s doing?” Kate asks Annalee.

Annalee doesn’t look at her, eyes watching the fight. “I was gonna ask you.”

Kate takes a deep breath and pushes through the crowd to get closer. Suddenly, the fight escalates with the tides suddenly turning. She can barely follow until one last punch forces Henry to the ground. He doesn’t get back up and then the bell is ringing.

Zeke is shouting but Kate doesn’t pay him any mind as she goes to where Henry is on the ground.

He’s panting heavily, so he’s alive. She kneels down beside him. “Can you hear me, Henry?”

“Hello, Katie,” He says, eyes closed. Probably for the best, because he’d probably see two of her.

“Henry, this is important,” She speaks to him as if he were a child. “Who are you working with?”

“Some detective you are,” Henry chuckles.

Kate doesn’t like that, so she finds a forming bruise and presses one finger into it, applying pressure even as he seethes.

“Ah, ah-okay, I’ll talk, it was Slayton!” Henry blurts out.

Kate can’t find herself to be surprised and stands to find the pugilist manager when she can’t see him in the crowd of people. “Zeke! Zeke? Mister Slayton!” She calls for him but he’s nowhere to be found.

Thankfully, at least, Sheriff Logan pushes his way through. “Is your friend here guilty?” She nods. “Where’s Slayton? He’s in on it. He murdered Burt and O’Brian.”

The Sheriff doesn’t look surprised as he pulls Henry up to a standing position. Her childhood friend and confidante sways loosely, every part of him limp, even his hands which were just fighting. Wait. His hands.

Kate grabs Henry’s hand in hers, twisting it over and inspecting it. Dear Lord, it’s covered in light brown powder. Foxglove. “Weren’t you keepin’ an eye on him? Because it looked like he left with Slayton.”

Kate freezes like she was dunked into a pond in February. “Wh-what did you say?”

“Slayton was-”

“He’s going to drown Will,” Kate says, gathering her pistol. “Come on.”

“Aw, hell,” Logan sounds like he’s struggling but Kate has no time.

She has to save Will.

+

Kate tries for doors, hoping Slayton was too worried trying to kill Will quickly rather than efficiently. Why couldn’t this place have been smaller? On the third door, she sees the vaguely familiar attire of Zeke Slayton standing over a body in a giant washing bucket filled with water. Will.

Acting on pure Pinkerton instinct, she shoots him at his leg, even though he isn't facing her. She misses, dammit.

It works enough. Slayton whips around but his hand is still forcing Will’s head under the water. “Let him go, or the next one’s in your heart, Slayton,” She cocks the gun again.

Slayton's hand drops and Will flails out of the bathtub, landing on the floor like a wet rag as Slayton stands rod-straight.

Normally, Kate never takes her eyes off a criminal but Will was just _drowning_ and he’s coughing up water on the floor.

“Will, are you alright?” She asks him.

He nods, still coughing.

She trusts that, for now, and refocuses on Slayton as the pieces start to fall into place. She can take Will to a doctor later. “This is how you killed Grove, isn’t it? Henry weakened him with the foxglove and you took him up here to drown him.”

“That’s a nice work of fiction, missy,” The cad has the nerve to say that to her face, after his hands were forcing Will into water just moments ago.

“I exhumed his body,” She hisses since he’s not expecting those words and that tone from a ‘missy.’ “His lungs were full of water.” Where in the hell is Sheriff Logan?

Those words probably mean nothing to him but he says, “You’re wasting your time.” He chuckles at her, a cruel sound. “I’ve got that sheriff in the palm of my hand. Ain’t no one going to believe you.”

Kate hears the door kick open further and she moves to step aside as the voice of Sheriff Logan rings true as he says, “That’s where you’re wrong.”

She doesn’t keep her eyes from the target, but her periphery tells her that Henry’s there too, the liar. “I heard the whole thing, Slayton,” The Sheriff says, shoving Henry at Zeke like a sack of potatoes.

Knowing she has backup, Kate looks over at Will, who’s pushing himself to stand. She’s glad he’s feeling well so she can fight him next after the stunt he pulled.

“You and your friend here are under arrest for the murders of Burt Grove and Carey O’Brian,” The Sheriff informs with a smirk.  

“And the attempted murder of me!” Will shouts indignantly.

The Sheriff sighs, “All right, that too.”

“What kind of Sheriff are you, letting a woman do your work for you?” Slayton sneers.

Kate is about to grab her cuffs when she hears a scoff from her right and suddenly, one of Will’s fists flies at Slayton’s face, knocking him to the floor.

She blinks in slight shock and goes to demand an explanation when all Will says is “He had it coming.”

And she can’t argue with that.

+

Kate and Will leave the Sheriff’s office to trudge through the leftover snow flurry, to probably head to the Dubois before she goes back to John and the farm.

“Hey, I never got a chance to thank you for saving my life back there,” Will says. There would have been a day, early on, where Kate would have revelled in such a moment. William Pinkerton, son of the great Allan Pinkerton (her own personal hero and colleague), got his lived saved by a woman, the first woman Pinkerton. But the moment feels hollow, because it’s all her fault that his life had to be saved.

So she tells him herself, “You never would’ve been in that situation if I had listened to you in the first place.”

There probably would have been a time where he crowed in satisfaction over the fact that she called him right and herself wrong. But instead, he immediately says, “That’s okay.”

And she appreciates the moment.

Until Will has to be Will and ruin it by saying, “Yeah, but for what it’s worth, he really is a handsome fellow.”

She rolls her eyes.

“You two ever-” His hand flips as she moves to be dry and scathing.

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” She says, trying to preserve her dignity.

“Ha-ha!” He says victoriously. No such luck. “So you _have_ kissed him.”

She doesn’t bother to dignify that. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a telegram to send.”

He grabs her arm a slight moment, “Ah-ah-ah-ah”-ing her until she stops and faces him again. He looks apprehensive, and _that_ she can relish. “To who?”

“To Allan.” The answer should be fairly obvious to a Pinkerton detective.

Will sighs, but she’s too busy pulling out her notes because she always feels better having a plan of what she sends out on the telegram. Especially in such important matters.

Kate explains to Will, “This is a precise detailing of my failures during this case, and my suggestions for an appropriate punishment.” She’s not sure what Allan will do to her, not sure if he’ll be harsher or softer considering she’s a woman.

She expects Will to gloat but he just says, “Can I see that for a second?”

She hands it over easily. He probably has his own suggestions. But then he starts ripping it up and she gasps, floundering. “What- What are you doing?” Those were all her notes!

Will tosses them to the ground, letting them get soaked in the leftover snow fall. “The only thing that you’re guilty of is being human,” He tells her and it oddly warms her heart. “And thankfully, God created the perfect remedy for that.”

She smiles, unable to stop it. “Let me guess. Whisky?”

“Actually, on a day like today,” He surveys their little town that they protect and stroll together. “I was thinking a cup of tea.”

Color her surprised. “Not whisky?”

His arm wraps around her shoulder, “Hey, who’s in charge of this investigation?” He has a wicked grin on his face and she can’t help her own smile as they walk back to the Dubois.

And later, as they sip tea on the barstools that are practically engraved with their names, she says, “You’re right.”

“Again?” Will says playfully, holding a cold cloth to the bruising on his face. “What do I owe this honor?”

“Henry really is a handsome fellow,” Kate says as she warms her hands on the teacup. “Shame you had to bash in his face.” She can’t hide her smirk as she sips.

Will lets out a slight chuckle at that, “Yeah, Mrs. Warne. A shame.”


End file.
